Typical Heroes
by MacOitir
Summary: Focuses on three legionnaires in Camp Jupiter. No epic prophecies or Titan wars just angry gods and old fashioned questing. Typical hero stuff. All OCs except for immortals and monsters. Rated T for violence, language and mature themes.
1. Three Typical Heroes

I own nothing.

 **Three Typical Heroes**

Horace Wolff glared into the oppressive California sun. Almost sixteen years in its presence and he still hated it. He quietly fumed and sweltered in his armour whilst Pablo babbled on. His father had blessed him with the gift of tongues when he was claimed and he hadn't shut up since. If Horace was being honest with himself he regretted standing for Pablo. He seemed like a good kid at the time, quiet, deliberate, a strange hunger in his eyes. Turned out he was like that because he didn't speak English. But once he learned... Jesus Christ the kid could talk.

"See the women in Portugal have just got something-"

"Pablo"

"Yeah?"

"Shut it"

"Oh yeah man sure..."

Silence.

"The American women just don't have that mojo about them, you know?"

That's when the flaming Demigod crashed down onto his head.

* * *

Liam Twomey, the scourge of San Francisco and bane of authority figures everywhere ran like a frightened shrew. The Chimera seemed to treat him like one too. It would get just close enough for Liam to smell its rancid breath and assure him that Death was whispering in his ear before pulling back, staring the chase anew. Finally he was trapped on top of the one of the Berkeley hills. His body was tingling like a thousand fire ants were gnawing on him. This was the place. The Chimera approached, the lion head licking its lips, the goat head eyeing Liam's vintage leather jacket. A surge of power roared through Liam's body like it always did when he was cornered. He leaped straight up as the Chimera spewed flames and landed on the Chimeras back. He immediately wrapped his hands around its hissing snakes head tail. He dug his thumbs into its beady eyes until it stopped thrashing. The lions head roared furiously but Liam ignored it and latched onto the goats horns. The Chimera bucked and charged in every direction it could. Liam twisted the goats head towards the edge of the hill, and they charged that way. Any strength Liam had had left him by now and all he could do was cling to the beasts fur as they rolled over the edge.

Flames engulfed both Liam and the Chimera as they hurtled down the hill.

Liam was finally thrown off and he hit the bottom seconds before his foe. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of clanging armour and of the chimeras roar before he blacked out.

* * *

Pablo dispatched the Chimera with ease. He'd thrust his pilum down its throat as it thrashed on helplessly on its back. The real problem was the two unconscious teenagers at his feet. He checked them over quickly, Horace was concussed, maybe badly but the other guy was seriously hurt. Broken bones, third degree burns, a gash on his temple. The whole shabang. He grabbed the kid by the shoulders and closed his eyes and concentrated on the Forum. There was the familiar rush of air and suddenly they were in New Rome. Pablo dropped the kid down onto the cobbles and spewed all over him before collapsing himself. He wouldn't be doing that again in a hurry. Concerned vendors and citizens rushed over to them.

Pablo managed to choke out,

"Horace, in the tunnel..."

They seemed to understand and a few ran off to help him. Some medics had crowded around the kid now and they were working furiously. Pablo caught ones eye and grinned balefully,

"This one better be worth it eh?"

He hacked up some phlegm before falling back in a weary daze.

* * *

 **AN: A short introduction to the characters. Their pasts will be fleshed out in later chapters. Any reviews, input or constructive criticism would be great. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Silves, Border Patrol & Impending Doom

**Pablo**

I sat in New Rome quietly. Unusual for me I must say. I gently sipped my espresso and watched the people pass. An old man walked hand and hand with his granddaughter, shop owners shouted greetings across the street to each other, fellow legionnaires chatted and enjoyed their Sunday afternoon off. The whole city reminded me of home.

I'd a knack for trouble as a kid. My hometown, _Silves_ , was perfect for an aspiring thief. It was a sleepy city in the south of Portugal full of narrow streets and slippery cobbles. The sort of place travel books described as typical. An ancient Moorish castle overlooked the city and its ancient walls protected it from the advancing world. But, like most places tourism had made its mark. I'm not complaining though, it was all good business for me. I could unbuckle a fanny pack, pick a pocket and beg for a few euro all at once. The local _polícia_ turned a blind eye so long as they got a cut and tourists were usually back in their hotels before they noticed anything was amiss. The only person who was troubled by my petty thievery was my mother. She'd drag me to church every day of the week and make me confess to the _Padre_. She blamed it all on my absent father. He had bad Italian blood. Every thing that went wrong for us was my fathers fault.

The threats of hell never deterred me of course. It just added to the excitement. Eventually my mother issued her final threat. She told me the story of _Mormo_. Mormo was old and gnarled and grey. She would roam the cities of Europe in her shawls and bite any child who stole or misbehaved. She'd gone after my father once but he'd outsmarted her, so she was especially hungry for his children's blood. I laughed at her and paid the story no heed. She was always trying to scare me straight, it was the Catholic way after all.

I was casually going through the pockets of an overweight German tourist outside the cathedral the next day, when a Roma beggar lady grabbed me. I kicked and thrashed but couldn't break free. She croaked out a low guttural moan that might have been laughter and clamped her rotting teeth down onto my fingers. It took a while for people to react to my screams but eventually they came and drove her off. I was carried back to my mothers house, screaming and clutching the bleeding stumps on my left hand. Afterwards no one believed me when I told them about her murky yellow eyes or her endless rows of teeth. No one but my mother. She cried and held me told me it wasn't my fault and that it was my fathers curse.

After that we moved to America. She said Portugal had become too dangerous for me. Enemies of my father would come for me and her. I was too young to understand of course, but I was happy to go. The idea of travel excited me, the idea of America exhilarated me. It was a big adventure.

The rest is pretty standard Demigod stuff. I ended up in the Wolf House, training with Lupa. Grew faster, harder and stronger. Learnt I was the son of a god. Eventually made my way south to the Legion. As I crossed the little Tiber I was claimed. A son of Mercury. I'd no letters of recommendation, no family in New Rome but I was vouched for by a legionnaire of the fourth cohort. A mountain cunningly disguised as a demigod called Horace. Nice guy. I think. Didn't converse in words so much as grunts but he looked out for me. My first week I may have given cheek to someone who turned out to be a son of Mars. He only managed to break two of my ribs before Horace caved his skull in. Nice guy.

I snapped out of my reminiscences as Liam Twomey plonked himself down at my table and started grinning lazily at me. Turned out the kid was a Legacy, of Jupiter no less. Descended from Hercules. I'd been filled in by his uncle Antonio who ran the chariot shop downtown. Antonio's sister, Liam's mother, had left New Rome at nineteen, wanted to live a normal immortal free life. She'd managed it too until Liam's scent had gotten too strong. The monster attacks had gotten too frequent so she sent him off to the Wolf House. A bit harsh and a bit selfish. You could take the Roman out of Rome but you couldn't take Rome out of the Roman eh.

"Enjoying New Rome?" I asked

"Too much lad," he drawled, "If the food doesn't kill me the women will."

I laughed, "Don't get used to it kid. You're joining the legion today. We'll have you digging ditches in no time."

He just gave a nervous laugh and looked around himself. The medics had done an good job on him, a garish scar on his left temple but that was it. The matted black fur he'd called hair had been cropped short, roman style, and his tattered rags replaced with a purple t-shirt and black jeans. He'd be good looking if he was about five inches shorter and thirty pounds heavier. The women of Rome had nothing to fear from this would be womanizer. He gave me a funny look when he caught me laughing but I waved him off.

"Come on man" I said. "Lets get you to Camp."

* * *

 **Liam**

Life in New Rome was great whilst it lasted. I couldn't understand why Mam wouldn't want to live here. I'd always been told of the family history, that we were descended from Jove and had the strength of Hercules. I'd believed them too. I'd no reason not to, but I don't think it sunk in till my fifteenth birthday. That's the day I hurled my teacher through a wall. Turned out he was a monster so it was okay with me, but try telling the cops that. I went on the run, with my parents blessing of course, and headed for the Wolf House. That's were I learnt about my powers. I'm quite weak usually, fifty percent skin fifty percent bone, but when adrenaline starts pumping I'm like a god amongst men. It's enough to scare me sometimes. Lupa told me there were plenty of kids with powers at camp, some a lot more dangerous than mine. At least I wouldn't be a freak to them.

Terminus stopped us at the Pomerian Line. I'd been warned about him by my uncle but it was still a surreal sight. An ancient Roman statue that could probably vaporize me without a second thought.

Pablo turned to me and murmured , "Play it cool."

I looked at him questioningly but before I could say anything Terminus stopped us.

"Who do we have here? Pablo Trapaceiro and a new face. Who is this?"

"Eh, Liam Twomey" I said.

"Oh yes, I heard you were coming. Regulation haircut, camp approved clothing." He was staring at me as if he was trying to find something to chide me about.

"Entirely too tall though. Try to shave a few inches off for the next time."

"Er... I'll do my best..."

He turned his attention to Pablo who flashed an innocent smile.

"Pablo Trapaceiro... I don't suppose you'd turn out your pockets for me?"

Pablo gave him a 'who me?' look and turned them out.

"Polo mints, three Denarii, some lint..."

"I'm a changed man Terminus" he said, "That lecture you gave me the last time really straightened me out."

I shook my head incredulously. Butter wouldn't melt.

"Hmm. Good. I believe Julia has your weapon, Julia!"

A little girl of about eleven stepped out from behind him with a deadly looking golden blade. It was somewhere between a scythe and a dagger.

"Thank you M'lady" Pablo said before leaning into a bow so deep he almost fell over. Julia giggled and blushed.

" Now, now." Terminus said, "On your way, some of use have work to do"

"Of Course Lord Terminus" Pablo intoned. He gave a quick salute before hurrying off. I followed.

* * *

"So does he always check you like that?" I asked.

"Every time" Pablo grinned. "It's gotten to be a game for me really."

"But did you steal something?"

"Of course I did. Everything I'm wearing."

I just shook my head and laughed. This guy was something else. I studied him as we walked. He was short and lean, dark skin and curly black hair but with bright blue eyes. He had an angelic face but his manic smile and glinting eyes betrayed his mischievous nature. He was like a satanic cherub.

Two guards stopped us outside the camps walls. They took off their helmets as we approached and I was struck by the contrast. The first guard was a girl, about fourteen I'd say. She was small and impish and had a pretty face, not gorgeous, but pretty. She smiled warmly at me like we were old friends but then grimaced when Pablo started flirting with her. The other guard had a Germanic look about him and had to be part giant. He was approaching seven foot tall, and was more muscle than man. He glared at me impassively like he'd sized me up already and had come to the conclusion that I wasn't even worth killing.

Pablo took care of the introductions. He quickly nodded to the girl, "Rebecca this is Liam,"  
I went to shake her hand put Pablo stood in between us and turned me towards the behemoth.

"And this is Horace, you've already met briefly of course. Ready for round two with this big string of misery, eh Horace?"

Horace grunted genially and shook my hand with monstrous paw. "Welcome to the Legion" he drawled in a Texas monotone.

"Don't get too attached yet Horace. He has to make it past two Praetors and an augur yet. We'll see you guys later, hopefully." Pablo said.

He steered me past them and in through the gates of Camp Jupiter.

"Horace likes you" he grinned.

"What did you mean 'get past' Praetors and an Augur?"

He looked at me like I was a bit slow. "Well we have to see if they'll let you live don't we?"


	3. Let The Games Begin

**A/N: I forgot to mention this was set in the past, sometime in the early eighties.**

 **Horace**

Four years. Four years fucking I've served Rome without acknowledgement from my father. Four fucking years. This is the day though. My sixteenth birthday, tonight I'll prove myself in the gladiator fights and make him take notice. It doesn't matter, won't matter, that no one had remembered (no one except Becca). Tonight I will be claimed. Tonight I will earn respect.

 **Liam**

I knelt before the Praetor, fidgeting anxiously. The whole room seemed to be constructed to make people fidget. The walls were loaded with bloodstained weapons, each one pried from the cold hands of an enemy of Rome the Praetor had assured me. The Praetor? She'd seemed nice when Pablo introduced me us outside the _via principia_. She seemed a lot more sinister now that she held an infernal black dagger to my throat. Every time she asked a question I felt compelled to spill my heart out. When she asked about my time in the Wolf House I babbled about every hunt, every conversation, every lesson learned. Details I'd long forgotten came gushing out like blood from a wound.

Eventually I was allowed to stand. I did so with effort. Sweat ran down my forehead and my knees trembled a shitting dog. Interrogation took it out of you.

"I'm satisfied that you're no threat to the Legion" she said. "In time you may even be an asset."

I looked at her, bewildered. "Do I look like I could be a threat to a Roman soldier, let alone an army of them?"

"One can never be too certain given our current situation" she wrinkled her nose, "especially with a descendant of Hercules."

I opened my mouth and stopped. Her eyes were oddly intense like she was daring me to ask. I closed my mouth again meekly.

She smirked, obviously satisfied.

"Normally I'd send you to the auger now to make sure no gods have a vendetta against you but he's preoccupied at the minute so we'll skip the formalities, you may join the Twelfth Legion. You'll be placed in a cohort at evening muster."

She sat down at her desk and began to write. My time was up. I started out, but turned at the door.

"One thing Praetor, I didn't catch your name."

"Mallory" she said without looking up. "Mallory Lawrence".

* * *

You've never been intimidated until you've stood in front of two hundred heavily armed Romans, each one just waiting for the order to put a javelin through your neck. Luckily the order never came. I stood before the Legion, feeling naked without armour like everyone else. One Praetor stood on each side of me. Mallory on my left, and a tall dark haired guy I hadn't met on my right. Mallory stepped forward.

"This is Liam Twomey, legacy of Hercules. He has one letter of reference from his uncle Antonio Mazza in New Rome."

Mutters ran through the legion. There was obviously more than one patron of Antonio's shop in the crowd.

"Will anyone stand for him?"

There was a painfully pregnant pause until a soft southern twang echoed out.

"I will."

Horace, the giant I'd been introduced to earlier stepped forward. I was amazed he could speak so quietly but with so much authority. Mallory turned to me and said,

"Legionnaire Horace Wolff has agreed to stand for you and allow you to join the fourth cohort. Do you accept?"

"Yeah, eh I mean, I do."

She smiled, I was one more thing checked of her list.

"We will reassemble for gladiator battles in one hour, after dinner."

The other Praetor who hadn't spoken up to now stepped forward and bellowed,

" _Senatus Populusque Romanus"_

The legion roared it back and broke apart for dinner.

* * *

Horace filled me in on the differences between the cohorts as we walked to the mess hall. Fifth was best, Fourth not far behind, First and Third were about the same, and the less said about Second the better. One of his strides equaled about three of mine so I had to scurry to keep up. Pablo materialised in between and decided to hang off our soldiers for the remainder of the trip.

"So guys, I'm sensing a real bromance thing here. Has young master Twomey broken through your prickly exterior to unveil a soft, marshmallowey underbelly?"

Horace just grunted at him.

"Aw, that's so sweet you guys..."

The mess hall was anything but formal. Low lying coaches surrounded wide flat tables. There didn't seem to be any seating plan and people hopped from table to table. The girl I'd met earlier, Rebecca, spotted us and called us over to her table. Horace dumped Pablo on the ground and sat down next to her. The two of them grinned like schoolchildren. I'd suspected it earlier but now I was sure, there was something going on there. Pablo jumped up and dusted himself off and sat down beside me. Food began to materialise in the air and fly around, everyone seemed to get whatever they wanted.  
Pablo spoke up first

"I would've stood for you man but I'm barely a full member of the Legion. Didn't want to rock the boat."

"Don't worry it's grand. What do you mean full member?"

"You have to either serve for a year or commit an act of valour to get your tatts, I've only been here for six months or so. Slayed a Chimera a while back though. Saved a couple of lives." He grinned at Rebecca cheekily.

"Tatts?"

Rebecca took over.

"All legionnaires have tattoos burned into them."

She showed me her forearm. A hammer-and-forge over two black lines and Rome's motto, SPQR.

"Symbol of your godly parent, Vulcan for me, and how many years you've served."

"So all you guys have them?" I asked.

Pablo nodded and held up his arm, a caduceus and one line. Horace held up his arm, four lines but no symbol.

"I haven't been claimed." He grunted before I could ask.

"Ah, but we all know you belong to Mars, eh big guy." Pablo said.

"There are loads of gods outside of the Olympians" Rebecca said quickly. "Mallory (I let out an involuntary shudder) is the daughter of Orcus, punisher of liars and broken oaths. Michael, the other Praetor, is the son of Janus the god of doorways. It doesn't really matter who your parent is if you've ambition."

She glanced at Horace. His heritage was obviously a sensitive subject.

Suddenly our plates disappeared and a variety of brutal weapons appeared in their place. Horace nodded at me.

"Pablo has his _sica_ , I've my _cestus_. Take whatever for now and we'll sort you out with something better tomorrow."

I looked around and picked up an iron sword. A _gladius_. It felt a little light but it would do for now. Pablo grinned at no one in particular and howled into the air,

"Let the games begin!".

 **A/N: Sica, A curved dagger.  
** **Cestus, Leather gloves with jagged metal sown in.**

 **Thanks to anyone who read. More reviews would be great. I'd like feedback on characters, my writing and any ideas you have (but don't worry I do have an over all plot). I'll try update ASAP.**


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